Lachlan did not expect to find anyone by the outer wall.
He pulled the reins, his horse slowing beneath him as his gaze settled on a silhouette in the fog.
His forehead creased slightly as he raised his eyebrows, studying the figure more closely.
A lass. This early in the mornin’.
There was something about the way she stood that made him quiet in his approach. Relaxed, even.
A carefree air hung around her, as though she belonged in the castle. Her arms moved slightly at her sides as her shoulders dropped. She looked over the walls into the bushes ahead, her gaze fixed on nothing in particular.
Lachlan did not want to startle her.
His grip on the reins loosened as he gently led his horse ahead. His legs swung slightly on either side as he drew closer to the courtyard, close enough to see her more clearly.
She wore a cloak barely fit to keep her from the Highland cold. Her dark hair flowed down her back, cascading in soft, loose curls.
Mairi.
A frown crossed his features for a fraction of a second.
What is she doin’ here?
A cold breeze swept across the courtyard, flapping the hem of her cloak against her legs.
Is she nae freezin’?
His expression softened at the thought, and he pulled his horse to a halt on the other side of the courtyard.
So many things had unsettled him over the last two days, the English lass being a common and constant source of his headaches. He had ridden out at first light, as he always did when he needed to clear his head. And yet, here she was again in his escape.
His jaw tightened. He had half a mind to shout her name across the courtyard. To ask her why she thought she could roam his castle at night and his land in the wee hours of the morning.
But he didn’t.
Something about her looked different.Feltdifferent.
Lachlan had seen Englishwomen before. There was always a certain distaste in the way they held themselves when they discussed the Highlands. There was always fear in their eyes or a fake admiration for the land and its people.
She isnae like them.
Marian stood still. Her body seemed to float in the fog, as though she was lost in the comfort of it. And the Highlands seemed to welcome her too, albeit a harsh welcome.
The breeze gusted against her again, clearing away the fog so that he could see her more clearly.
She shivered, pulling her cloak more tightly around her.
Lachlan exhaled softly, his grip tightening briefly on the reins before loosening again. He jumped down from his horse.
“I should get ye in the stables,” he murmured to the horse, brushing a hand along its golden hair.
And yet, he crossed the courtyard and walked over to Marian instead.
His steps softened as he drew closer, only loud enough to announce his presence without startling her.
Marian’s back tensed slightly, then she relaxed, subtly adjusting her stance. She didn’t have to look to know it was him.
He stopped beside her by the wall, neither of them exchanging a word of greeting. The silence stretched between them, and the breeze gusted through the courtyard again, tugging at the hem of her cloak.
